


Truth or Dare

by acanthis



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Richie is Gay, after the events of chapter 1, eddie is gay, eddie is something, f for georgie but i’m different, for sure, idfk it just doesn’t work with my plot, maybe richie should be bi, sleepover, stan realises richie is g a y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-17 04:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acanthis/pseuds/acanthis
Summary: There is a sleepover. They play truth or dare. Maybe you can guess what happens from there.





	1. Chapter 1

“We’re never doing it at Richie’s house again,” Ben yelled to the group, “Do you remember last time?”  
It was about time that the Losers had another sleepover. Of course they couldn’t use Eddie’s house - his mom was too strict. They couldn’t use Beverly’s because they were all boys, and they couldn’t use Richie’s because they know what happened last time. Mike’s and Bill’s parents despised Richie - as many people did. Ben’s house was out of the question because it simply was “too difficult to break into”, by the words of Bev. (She wasn’t officially allowed to sleep over).  
“Fine!” Stan finally said, after a few minutes of his silence, “I’ll do it.”  
There were cheers from the group, and a date was set. The Tri-annual Losers Club Sleepover was arranged.

On the night of the sleepover, Richie Tozier was packing the essentials: his pyjamas, his toothbrush, his DnD equipment (it was Loser tradition to play it at every sleepover), and his extra glasses. If he didn’t bring his extra glasses and they broke, then he’d never be allowed to go to another sleepover again. It had been a difficult fight between him and Wentworth Tozier to even let him go to this sleepover, but Wentworth finally agreed after what seemed like hours of negotiation. After Richie had packed, he closed his bag and ruffled up his hair. It couldn’t be too neat or he’d start looking like Bill, and he really didn’t want that.

Meanwhile, Eddie Kaspbrak had made sure that, this year, his mother knew about the sleepover 2 months in advance. Therefore she had enough time to arrange all of his medicine for the night and for the morning afterwards. During the morning before the sleepover, Eddie was packing his clothes in a neat pile to be placed carefully in a specific order in his suitcase to leave enough room for his wash things and meds. All his friends made fun of him for this but he knew it would keep him safe in an emergency. At exactly 6:23pm, Sonia Kaspbrak put her son and his bag into the car and drove him to the house of Stanley Uris.

Beverly Marsh didn’t pack. She wasn’t technically allowed to go to the sleepover, being a girl in a group of boys. Instead she had a plan. At 9:00pm, when she knew her father would no longer check on her, she would escape quietly, and return as slyly as she could at 3:00am, and go to sleep. This plan had worked before, on the night of the sleepover at Richie’s house, but things had changed since then. The Losers Club Tri-Annual Sleepover was now under a considerable amount more surveillance. Luckily, Stan’s mom was more lenient. Andrea and Bev had spoken as friends and knew each other rather well, so Bev knew she could count on her not to tell on her. 

Bill Denbrough spent 99% of his preparation for the sleepover trying to decide which t-shirt to wear the next day. He couldn’t decide between a super cool Rolling Stones t-shirt of his dad’s or his new shirt with blue sleeves. After consulting Ben about it, and after a call he didn’t have time for, he decided on the Rolling Stones shirt. His dad had reluctantly handed it down to him after Bill’s mother Sharon had convinced him that he wasn’t cool anymore. Bill had smiled the biggest smile he could possibly do and simply the gesture was one of the happiest times he had been since his little brother died. The summer had been rough - the roughest time of his life, but all of the Losers had got through it and stayed alive, unlike some other Derry residents. 

Mike Hanlon was already packed by the 12pm that day. This was his first Tri-Annual Loser’s Club Sleepover and he was the most excited he had ever been. Being black and homeschooled had made him a target of Derry bullies, so when he met the other boys, despite their also being targets, he felt safe. At least he had friends he could count on. His family had finally let him go to the sleepover only after the entire Loser’s Club has turned up at his house, begging. Except Eddie, since it was 8:30pm and he wasn’t allowed out.

Ben packed his clothes a full 8 hours before he had to leave. This wasn’t what he planned to do, but he expected it. He found comfort in being ready - especially for sleepovers. And this sleepover would be different from other sleepovers he had been to. Unlike Mike, it was not his first Tri-Annual Loser’s Club sleepover, but he was still too excited. He knew that Bev would be there as well, since she had snuck into the last one, after the whole thing happened, when Mike had been grounded, but he enjoyed it just the same, even though Mike was a great friend of his. 

The Tri-Annual Loser’s Club Sleepover commenced at 6:30pm on Saturday 16th October, 1989, at the location: Stan’s house. The first to arrive, as usual, was Eddie, whose Mother had a firm conversation with Andrea Uris about her son’s medicine and sleep schedule (never followed) and how to wake him up without triggering one of his many disorders. During this time, Mike and Ben arrived, followed by Bill. Penultimately, late as usual, Richie arrived. Bev wouldn’t turn up until much later. Stanley warmly welcomed them into his home and led them to where they would be sleeping. The basement was the largest room in the house, and had been converted into a cool game space with a TV and football table, as well as an arcade game his dad had bought. There was a couch facing the TV which could be moved further away and make enough room for all the boys (and girl) to fit. A large basket of board games sat nearby and had been used on many occasions. Bill’s least favourite item was the Ouiji board, which the other boys had tried to use to contact Georgie. Bill had actively protested this and almost snapped the board in half. Stan convinced him not to by explaining how much Bill would have to pay him for that board. 

The boys set their sleeping things up in the space between the couch and the TV, with the order of Stan, Bill, Richie, Eddie, Ben, Mike, though this order wouldn’t stay in place the whole night.  
“W-What if he comes back?” Bill whispered quietly to Stan, “He was in my B-Buh-basement when I s-saw him.”  
“Don’t worry, Bill, it hasn’t been 27 years, has it?” Replied Stan.  
Meanwhile, Richie was rummaging through the Uris’ tape and CD collection.  
“Stan-Man this is ridiculous!” He cried, gaining Stan’s attention.  
“What is?” The curly haired boy wandered over to where Richie was standing.  
“You don’t have a single Queen song.”  
“Have you checked the record case?” Stan replied. Richie’s eyes lit up. He raced over to the other side of the room, where a tall bookshelf stood. On it was an entire collection of Queen records. He picked out his favourite song and placed it onto the record player. 

Can anybody find me...

“Somebody to love.” Richie sang along with the music.  
“This is the worst one, Rich!” Eddie complained.  
“Eds, you can’t be serious.” Richie almost yelled, still ‘dancing’ around to the music, “Have you ever even listened to the lyrics? Surely you should find it relatable.”  
Eddie frowned.  
“‘I want to break free’ is relatable, this is just sad.”  
“Can we p-puh-play some games?” Bill asked, interrupting what would be come a bickering.  
After firm agreement from the rest of the boys, they decided to play Truth or Dare.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Richie groaned. He despised truth or dare. They played it at every single sleepover and it just got old. Everybody gave such boring truths and dares that you could so easily go wrong. It was a girls’ game. Girls played it at their stupid sleepovers and gossiped about boys and whatever they wanted. Bev had told him.  
“Do you not like truth or dare?” Mike asked.  
“He hates it,” Eddie said, glaring at Richie, “And he never says truth.”  
Mike smirked and sat down in the circle which began to form, in the same order as what the boys had imagined to ‘sleep’ in.  
“Ok should we go in a circle, starting with Stan?” Asked Ben, who was of course an expert at truth or dare. The boys nodded affirmatively. 

“S-Stan, t-tr-truth or dare?” Bill asked. Stan chose truth.  
“If you could be any animal and breed with any other animal, which ones would you pick?” Said Richie. He tended to say the weird ones.  
Stan picked a donkey and a fly. The game went on as expected. The Losers learnt that Mike could do a headstand, Ben once fell into an elephant enclosure at the zoo, and that, when Eddie was 5, he peed in an IKEA fake toilet (a classic story which he had only ever told Richie). It then reached Richie.  
“Truth or Dare, Rich.” asked Mike.  
“Dare.”  
There were a number of groans from the other boys.  
“You always pick dare!” One of them said, followed by “We’re running out of ideas.”  
“Puh-Please just pick tr-truth!” pleaded Bill.  
After a moment of thinking, Richie finally build up the courage.  
“Fine.”

“Who do you like?” Ben asked. Richie groaned just like the boys had just done.  
“That’s such a basic question, can’t you ask a different one.”  
“We’ll ask a different one next round. Who do you like?” Ben repeated. Richie remained silent. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. 

Sometimes people joked. They joked about him, and about people he liked. Specifically boys he liked. Even more specifically, how he liked boys. He had heard the jokes, the derogatories. He had seen the words, the ‘Richie likes cock’ or ‘Richie Tozier is a f-‘. And he hadn’t liked it. People said that there was always a drop of the truth to any joke, and there was. Richie knew there was a drop of truth. Except it wasn’t a drop. It was an entire river of truth. The entire fact on which they based their jokes on was true. That’s what Richie hated about the truth. It could always be manipulated by people like Bowers to become a weapon. A weapon to destroy whomever said it. And that was the truth. Richie’s truth. So he had to lie. 

“Sydney Applebaum.” He finally said.  
“Oh, her?” Stan raised an eyebrow, “She goes to temple with me. Doesn’t really strike me as your ‘type’.”  
“Well, Stan the Man, you’d be surprised. She’s a very lovely woman and has a nice...” He panicked, “voice.” The statement came out more like a question than a fact.  
“A nice voice?” Eddie asked.  
“Mhm,” Richie mumbled, “I have to use the bathroom.” He stood up and left the room.

Stanley followed.

“Sorry.” He said, after finding Richie lurking in the hallway, “I would never have asked it.”  
“But Ben did,” Richie cried quietly, his voice breaking slightly, “And it’s such a sensitive topic especial... especially for me.”  
Stan looked down.  
“I’ve seen how you look at each other when you think the other isn’t looking. And how you protect each other and touch each other and I see everything,” Stan began, “You think Eddie’s your best friend? You’d be wrong. I’m your best friend, or Bill is, whoever, but whatever you feel about Eddie isn’t ‘best friend’ship no matter how much you try to deny it. And I think he feels the same.”  
Richie looked up.  
“No he doesn’t.”  
“Ask him.”  
“I couldn’t. I-“ He look a deep breath, “I’m too scared for that. What will everyone say? My dad, his mom? Imagine the punishment they’ll come up with. Probably lock us away in separate houses and cut off my dick like Jewish people.”  
“That’s not what circumcision is, Rich.” Stan tried to explain.  
“Who cares? I’ll die alone because I’m too scared to tell anyone I like ... I like boys, or I’ll end up marrying a random chick I find on the street. God, Stan, you could never understand this!”  
“I guess I couldn’t.” Stan said coldly, “I’m going back in. Take your time.” Richie nodded, and watched the curly haired boy descend the stairs again. 

He broke down crying.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie’s POV

Chapter 3

Maybe I felt I had to go see him because we were best friends. We always had been. Stan came down looking worried and of course the first thing I thought was “What if he’s been killed?” but then I remembered that Stan would definitely have been screaming and run down here with all his speed. And he’s a fast runner.

The last sleepover we had was at Richie’s house. It was a disaster. And things happened there that we all tried to forget, but I simply could not stop thinking about.

Richie and I have always been best friends, for as long as we’ve known each other. We spent every waking moment we could with each other after It all happened. Bill and Bev had stayed together after she convinced her dad not to move, so Ben was kinda bitter. He just hung out with Mike and Stan most of the time. Richie saved my life, and possibly my arm. He helped me out of Niebolt when I couldn’t climb and helped me with my mom, even though she’s still giving me medicine. I just chuck it away and pretend I took it. I do take the anti-anxiety meds though, because that’s definitely true. Turns out there’s this thing called ‘Munchausen by Proxy’ which Stan’s dad mentioned to me. I don’t remember what really happened but it didn’t seem great. I got my cast off recently. My arm is now really weird and skinny compared to the left one but I think I’m partially ambidextrous now. Maybe I wouldn’t have needed a cast if Richie hadn’t interfered but I doubt that. Richie always seems to make my life complicated. 

I went up to talk to him but found him coming down the stairs, no visible signs on his face to show why Stan was worried. I guess he just HAD been to the bathroom.  
“You good, Rich?” Stan asked as Richie descended into the basement. He nodded, and took his place back on the floor.  
“Whose turn was it now?” he asked. It was Bill’s turn. 

I couldn’t help feeling like something was definitely up with Richie. He hadn’t been okay since the whole thing happened, and obviously that would affect him, but not this much. This was a different effect. He was sadder, more longibf for happiness than what the rest of us felt after it - paranoia, anxiety, general fear that everything in life was out to get us. The rest of us started looking out for everything, Richie seemed to look out for nothing. I would have a chance later to talk to him alone, when everyone else started playing those board games Richie and I hated. Bev would be here by then, so Ben and Bill would both be busy, whereas Stan and Mike would be playing, as always. 

When the time came, I tried to talk to him. We always talked to each other when the others were being ‘boring’ but now he was just ignoring me.  
“Ugh,” I said, while the others played the Game of Life. Depressing game. “This game makes me want to vomit into a bowl and eat it again.” Usually Richie would laugh at a comment like this. I knew I would have to say something drastic, and disgusting, and completely out of my comfort zone, to get his attention, but it didn’t work. He just smiled slightly. I decided to confront Stan. I managed to do it quite successfully, in my opinion.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked Stan. The rest of them were playing another game, and Richie was listening to some music on a Walkman in the corner. Stan looked over. I followed his gaze. Unlike his, mine stayed there.  
“I can’t tell you.” The curly haired boy said, the same worried look as earlier on his face.  
“Why not?”  
“You have to find out for yourself.” Then he walked back to the rest of the group. I went to sit next to Richie. 

We sat in silence for a while, thighs touching and my head by his left ear, hearing the music from one side. I closed my eyes and singled out the noise. Duran Duran. Meet El Presidente. Classic. Richie has good music taste, in my opinion. He likes all the old songs and all the new ones and all the very old ones by depressed German men. Richie seemed depressed now. He wouldn’t speak - not to me, and he looked sad. This was just about the worst sleepover we had had so far. 

For once, we went to sleep. At 3am. And woke up at 11am where we parted ways. I didn’t see him for a while after that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hgnn big boi staniel this goes out to my good friend elyse who has basically begged for ages lol shout out to y’all

Stanley Uris was sick of his friends. He loved them all, obviously, but they could be so messy and annoying and repetitive and careless. He would refuse to sleep in Richie’s room due to the mess, then the bespectacled boy would force him to clean his room. Well, ‘forced’ is a strong word. Stan willingly did it, and enjoyed it. 

The first time his parents suspected there may be something up with him was when he was 8 years old. It was in 1985. He had refused to sleep in his bed for 4 weeks due to his fear of the bed bugs. There were no bed bugs. His parents checked the mattress every night and showed Stanley that there were no bed bugs yet he still couldn’t sleep there. What had cause this obsession could not be known but the word ‘obsession’ really caused his parents to think. Of course they didn’t think much of it from an 8 year old, however. In the end they brushed it off as something he had heard from a friend. Probably Richie - he’d always been messy and liked to tell stories like that. After Donald finally allowed his son to play outside with his friends, without supervision, they stopped seeing him as much. Their view of their son only came from the early morning or late afternoon to night. In school, Stan could be described as a nightmare. He had, on a few occasions, literally shouted at his friends for having something out of place on the desk or at the teacher for not having the light switches face the same way. After he turned 11, and things hadn’t changed, they finally decided that maybe they should take him to a doctor - so they did. 

Stan was diagnosed with OCD (to no surprise to anyone who knew him) (except maybe his grandma) (she didn’t believe in mental health). But the diagnosis allowed him to be able to understand what was going on in his head and how he could at least try and combat things. He had heard about mental health before. Eddie and his mom were both hypochondriacs. Maybe he didn’t know what that meant, but he knew that at least he wasn’t alone. So Eddie became one of his best friends.

Still, despite Stan being able to dim down his OCD. It was still a problem. And his messy fucking friends were an even bigger problem. 

It was the summer of 1990, almost 9 months after The Sleepover had happened. Of course, they had had more sleepovers after that, one at New Year, and another in the spring, though not official Loser’s Club Tri-Annual Sleepovers, but nothing similar had happened. Richie went back to how he had acted before ‘The Incident’ as Stan liked to refer to it in his head, and Stan himself watched on at Richie and Eddie in utter amazement that nothing had happened. Bill noticed it too. 

“There’s something g-going on with them r-ruh-right?” Asked Bill, on this particular summer’s day. Recently he had been having speech therapy to try and fix his stutter. It had got bad after last summer, which made Bill even more determined to try and fix it. He was kind of sick of being called ‘B-Bill’ or ‘Stuttering Bill’ or any of the other names those assholes + Richie called him.  
“No comment.” Stan replied, watching the two other boys bicker. God knows what their argument was about this time. He could see how Richie looked at Eddie. Eddie always looked angry, and it was always hard to make out his emotions. Maybe Bill could. They knew each other better.  
“Keep an eye on them will you, Billy.” His voice was soft, almost like he was worried but somehow not at all. 

He didn’t want Richie to get his heart broken. They were all the. best of friends, but he had known Richie longer and knew more about him than even he knew. But recently he could tell that Richie was slipping away, somehow. He was less enthusiastic, didn’t make as many jokes, and definitely didn’t talk as much. Obviously living in the ‘perfect christian town’ of Derry, Maine wasn’t ideal for any of the losers. They had too many expectations. Even Stan, who would seem perfect, was Jewish. You couldn’t get away with anything there. At least Henry Bowers was in a mental facility. That was one threat down. Still, there were so many more looming over the Losers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT I COULDNT BE ARSED LOL ANYYWAY COMMENT IF U WANT ANY STENBROUGH BC IM THINKING ABOUT IT


End file.
